


Lipstick Stain

by PeskiPixi



Category: Real Person Fiction
Genre: F/M, Fassy - Freeform, Fingering, Lipstick & Lip Gloss, NSFW, One Shot, Oral Sex, Photo Shoot, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:57:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PeskiPixi/pseuds/PeskiPixi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Demi is a make-up artist just trying to do her job and maybe get her big break, but is then asked to do something that has some serious but pleasurable consequences.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lipstick Stain

**Author's Note:**

> Mr Fassbender has been bothering me of late, and I had to get him properly fucked and out of my system. There. Pure unadulterated smut.

Demi started and dropped a large powder brush with a clatter. She dropped to her knees to retrieve it where it had rolled underneath the hastily set-up work table. Luca’s voice still echoed and boomed around the run down empty space of the warehouse they were shooting in, and she threw a glance over her shoulder to where he was pacing up and down, camera in one hand, other hand gesticulating wildly. She wasn’t sure what had set off the tantrum, and decided to keep her head down until he calmed down. The “talent” was sitting on a folding chair, Styrofoam cup in hand, staring off into space, but glancing in her direction just as she looked at him. As soon as Luca calmed down, they could begin. The actor looked relaxed and slightly bored.

Surreptitiously, Demi watched him. She had to admit, she wasn’t a fan, but damn, the man was handsome as sin. His forearms were resting on his knees, and his white dress shirt was unbuttoned over a pair of faded and torn designer jeans. His feet were bare and a pair of aviators sat perched in his short-cropped ginger hair. She continued to watch as he looked up and smiled at a comment made by a crew member. His mouth stretched in an ultra-wide smile, showing off a mouth full of teeth that was surely more than any normal person were supposed to have. Demi turned back and busied herself with her brushes, pots and tubes. She was sure she would get called on when she was needed. The thought had not faded before Luca shouted her name. Taking a deep breath, she turned, and smiled at Michael as he sat down in the make-up chair.

She started, doing the usual for a male photoshoot. Concealer, especially around the eyes, minimal eyebrows and mascara, some powder to combat the shine. Luca had clicked away where the set has been set up, testing lighting and shouting instructions at the crew, causing staff to scurry every now and again with a dramatic tirade. Demi didn’t put much stock in his tantrums, and ignored it for the most part, unless directed at her. Having finished, Michael got up and ambled over to where the activity was and they started with a few run-of-the-mill shots.

A few minutes into the shoot, she was called and told to change hair (Luca wanted sex hair) and to smear scarlet lipstick across his face.

Wait what?

Well, she shrugged internally, and went to do as she was told. She couldn’t afford to lose this job. Michael sat quietly in the chair again, hands folded like a good school boy as she touched up powder and then started on the lipstick effect. Luca wanted a just-fucked, luscious, sex-slave look. (His words, not hers). Demi did her best, touching the lipstick to his mouth and then smearing it all over the lower half of his face, his ginger stubble scratchy on her fingertips. Concentrating, she tried not to be distracted by the preposterously blue eyes that were staring frankly at her, following her every move. There was a decidedly naughty twinkle in them, and it unnerved her.

Standing back and admiring her handiwork, she gestured that it was okay for him to go. He stood up, towering over her and reached out to lift her crew pass that was hanging around her neck.

“Demi.” He said, reading off the pass. Demi nodded once.

“As in movie star or as in half sized?” he smiled, flashing that mouthful of teeth. Demi rolled her eyes and turned away, not wanting to let him see he was getting to her.

When she turned back again, they were busy already. Luca had Michael leaning against a steel railing, staring into the camera, shirt and belt undone, a pair of fur-lined handcuffs dangling from one wrist. His head was tilted back, exposing the long muscled lines of his neck. He licked his lips and shifted slightly, tilting his head, working the camera. Demi watched as Luca clicked away, encouraging him, shouting at the lighting guys and darting around for angles. She felt gooseflesh on her arms as she watched Michael work. He was mesmerising, sex was oozing out of every pore as he eye-fucked the camera, to her amazement she was getting turned on by just watching him. Then, Luca yelled STOP! Everything came to a standstill and Michael stood up straight, shedding the persona with ease and smiling when he caught her eye. Demi lowered her eyes and held her breath for a second, then letting it out in a noisy huff.

“Demi!”

She jerked her head up at the sound of her name, to see Luca gesturing her closer.

“This!” he pointed at Michael. “This. It’s not working. It looks fake, contrived. I can’t work with this shit. I can’t” he despaired, dragging his hands through his black curls. Demi kept her eye-roll internal this time, and plastered a fake smile on her face.

“Sure, Luca, no problem. I’ll clean it off and try a different method.” She said placatingly.

“No! No no no no no!” he seethed. “You can’t…. Fake it!” He gestured wildly. “It has to be believable, real!” His eyes fell on Demi, who was standing patiently next to him, waiting for instructions.

“You, put on the lipstick.” He said, pointing at her. She looked at him askance.

“Yes….” She said carefully. “That’s my job. That’s what I suggested…”

“No! You don’t understand stupid girl!” he raged. “You are putting on the lipstick, on yourself!” he looked triumphant, and Demi stared at him, nonplussed.

“You put it on and you kiss him!” He looked at her with a big smile on his face, pleased that he has discovered the answer. Demi looked back at him for a second, and uttered a single word.

“No.” Turning on her heel, she stalked back to her table, face burning and blood boiling. There was no way in HELL she was kissing an actor just to satisfy Luca’s twisted artistic needs. It’s not happening. No.

Luca followed her and took her arm, stopping her and making her turn around.

“Please Demi, it’ll be perfect! Just once, please? Come on!” He threw his arms wide and smiled broadly. Demi just looked at him silently. Then, she turned on her heel again and resumed her march to her table. Once there, she started randomly throwing gear into boxes and bags, but again she felt a hand on her arm. She froze, trying to keep her temper under control. Then, she felt Luca’s hot putrid breath on her ear.

“Do you really want to lose this job little girl?” He whispered. “If you do not do this, I will personally see that you never work in this industry again.” He continued menacingly. Closing her eyes in defeat, her shoulders sagging, Demi reached for her lipstick bag, and methodically selected a lipstick the colour of fresh blood. She turned the mirror, leaned forward and applied the lipstick to her own lips, feeling tears prickle at the corners of her eyes. She looked at her own face for a second, taking in the familiar soft brown eyes, pale skin and full lips, now stained crimson. Then, she took a deep breath and turned.

“Fine.” She said and walked towards where Michael as standing, watching her with an inscrutable expression on his face. “Let’s do it. Sorry, Mr. Fassbender, but it looks like you’re going to have to let me kiss you.” His eyebrows shot up, and there was a small smile on his lips. He watched her carefully for a second until Luca shouted again, hurrying them along.

Demi shrugged, knowing that there was no other choice. Pursing her painted lips, she stood on her tiptoes and offered her mouth to the man in front of her. She had closed her eyes, wanting to shut out the humiliation. For a few seconds, she waited, keeping her eyes closed and holding her breath. Just when she thought that the actor had balked at the thought of kissing a lowly make-up artist, she felt something. Her first thought was that his lips were surprisingly soft. She didn’t expect that. She kept her mouth tightly closed as he planted his lips on hers, moulding them to the contours of her mouth, the scruff on his upper lip tickling lightly. Her heart was beating fast in her chest, and she wasn’t sure whether it was temper or excitement. Finally, she felt the lips lift, and she opened her eyes, looking up into a pair of soft blue ones watching her intently. She stood back, slightly flustered at the concerned look in Michael’s eyes. He turned his head to Luca, lifting his eyebrows in question.

“No! No no no, that was pathetic, it was never going to work!” Luca said in his characteristic manner, waving his arms around. “Demi, what are you thinking? Can’t you do anything right? They told me you were a proper make-up artist, can’t you do a proper job?” He ranted. Demi dropped her head, clenching her teeth so hard that pain shot up into her skull.

“Now do it right!” he commanded. “And we’ll even give you some privacy!” he chortled with glee, starting to herd away all the crew in a grand manner. Eventually silence fell, and Demi knew she had to face the situation. She looked up, and her breath caught again at the beautiful eyes staring down at her.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” He murmured, his voice low enough so that it reached only her ears.

“Yes,” she sighed, “I’m afraid I do.” She hesitated. “But you don’t have to.” She looked up at him, gauging his reaction.

He sucked in his bottom lip for a moment, then he smiled.

“The thing is,” he said, bringing up a hand and cupping it to her cheek, “I don’t mind.”

With a suddenness that took her breath away, he leaned forward and captured her mouth with his. This was no chaste touching of lips like previously. He devoured her. His lips played over hers insistently as his fingers slid up her neck and fisted in her hair. His kiss was brutal, unforgiving, his tongue seeking entry into her mouth and his stubble scratching deliciously on her lips. Breath mingled as he deepened the kiss even more, and Demi felt her knees starting to give way. His one arm snaked around her middle, trapping her body tightly against his, keeping her upright as he continued to plunder her mouth relentlessly. Finally, they came up for air, and he rested his forehead against hers, his eyes half closed, lust shining clearly from the blue slits that were visible. He cleared his throat.

“That should do it.” He said, a smile plucking at one corner of his mouth. Demi was quiet, frankly, she suspected she was temporarily unable to speak. She only nodded and disentangled her arms from around his neck, turning away. He grabbed her arm, turning her back.

“The truth is… I’ve been wanting to do that. I don’t give a shit about the make-up or the shoot.” He smiled that devastatingly dangerous smile and turned, heading back to the set. Demi headed back to her table, taking a wipe and shakily cleaning her own face of the remnants of the lipstick. Once she was cleaned up, she turned to watch him work.

As her eyes fell on him, she gasped a silent breath. He was magnificent. She had not noticed after the kiss, she was too shaken. But as she looked at him now, her stomach flipped and she could feel heat spreading all over her body. He was doing his job, posing, working the camera. But it was completely different from before. A small part of her admired Luca’s artistic vision. He saw this and made it happen. Michael was standing with his arms raised holding onto a bar above his head, looking straight into the camera. His hair was dishevelled and there was a slight flush to his cheeks and his lips. His eyes were bright, pupils dilated. Her eyes travelled down his body, over the leanly muscled chest and shameless sixpack to his half-open jeans and lower, and she licked her lips involuntarily. There was a bigger bulge than was strictly modest, and her mouth watered.

But, the lipstick made it. Crimson smears covered his mouth and chin, and as his tongue darted out to lick his lips, he looked wanton, hedonistic and deliciously just-fucked. Demi suspected this photoshoot was going to cause some controversy. No man could look like this and not cause a reaction. Demi knew if she kept standing there and watching him, she was just torturing herself, knowing that she’ll be going home alone to her flat. She didn’t need the sexual frustration. Tearing her eyes away she walked over to the large window and stared down at the neglected tarmac outside. She couldn’t leave, the job wasn’t finished and she had to be available for touch-ups.

Demi was concentrating so hard on not watching, that she didn’t realise that the shoot was over. Only noticing that they were finished when the gofers started packing up gear, making quick work of collecting backdrops and tripods and light screens with a raucous clatter. Pulling herself out of her self-induced reverie, she started packing up her own gear, taking care to put everything in their rightful place. She couldn’t stop her mind wandering to Michael, and the mind-blowing kiss, and the panty-combusting after effect. She was a tiny bit hurt that he seemed to have left without giving her a second thought. She gave a mental shrug and thought o well, at least she got a scorching kiss and some fantasy material out of it. It had gone quiet in the warehouse, and Demi was a little nervous, the last assistant having left with a wave goodbye.

Shouldering her bag, she headed for the entrance, glad to be out of there. Turning the corner into a hallway, she walked face first into a wall of chest, and staggered back with a squeak. She looked up into a by now familiar pair of blue eyes smiling down at her.

“What are you doing here?” she demanded, her voice coming out harsher and a little higher than she intended with fright.

“I was looking for you.” He murmured. He had not moved, and stood close enough for her to smell his aftershave and a hint of sweat after a long day.

“Why?” she got out, her voice smaller now.

He stepped even closer, so that Demi had to tilt back her head to look at him. “We’ve got some unfinished business.” He said.

Her stomach did another odd little flip, and she felt heat spread to her centre, her nerve endings tingling.

“You don’t have to do this, you know.” She threw back his own words from earlier at him, smiling slightly as he stepped still closer and snaked an arm around her waist.

“Yes,” he countered, smiling broadly, “I’m afraid I do.”

Then, he kissed her again, and her mind exploded. Again. He pushed her back against the wall, trapping her, caging her between his arms as he consumed her. Her senses were at attention, and she was acutely aware of everything about him. His tongue gliding across her own, the feel of his large competent hands sliding over her skin, the feel of his hips pressed into hers, and the growing hardness against her stomach.

Still kissing every inch of her neck and jawline, he pushed his thigh between hers, forcefully separating her legs as his hand travelled down hers side, skimming over her hip and down her leg. Reaching the hem of her short flared skirt, his fingers travelled back up along her bare skin. Demi was breathing hard, her head thrown back as he kissed and licked and nibbled up her neck while his hand slid up her thigh.

“I was watching you, from the beginning.” He murmured into her clavicle. “You. Are. Exquisite.” He continued, planting little kisses in between the words. “And I have been wanting to take you. To ravage you. The whole. Fucking. Day.”

Demi was very glad that he was pressing her hard into the wall with his body, because she was sure her legs were not carrying her weight anymore. As he uttered the last word, his fingers finally reached their destination, and he rubbed hard into the sodden cotton of her panties, making her moan with need.

“O, so fucking wet for me, aren’t you?” he whispered in her ear, punctuating the question with a little nip at her earlobe. “Have you been wet for me all along, you dirty girl?”

“Yes.” Demi breathed. She was beyond reasoning, beyond denial. She whimpered as he stroked her hard, his thumb pressing on her clit as his fingers worked her pussy through the wet material.

“Can you feel how hard you make me?” he asked, pushing the length of his hard cock against her.

“Yes!” she said again, hearing a desperate edge to her own voice.

“Do you want me to make you come, Demi?” He asked, his voice low and raw with arousal.

“Yes!” she almost shouted, desperate for release.

Suddenly, his hand was gone, and he took a step back so suddenly that Demi almost lost her balance and collapsed. He grabbed her and leaned her against the wall, making sure she was going to remain upright. Then, he winked at her and went down on his knees. He glided his hands down her sides and as they reached her hips, he hooked the elastic of her skirt and took it down where it fell around her feet on the floor. He glanced up at her through his lashes and leaned forward, that big toothy shark-like grin on his face. Carefully, he snagged the elastic of her panties between his teeth and dragged them down, giving them a little shake when they caught a bit, like a puppy with a toy. Finally, they joined the skirt on the floor. Demi was shaking with anticipation, but Michael took his time, planting soft kisses on her mound and her thighs, teasing her, dragging his tongue along her hipbone.

He looked up at her, as if asking permission, and she nodded once, unsurprisingly lost for words. Taking her one ankle, he lifted her foot carefully, and draped her leg over his shoulder. Demi fell forward and placed her hands on his broad shoulders to keep her balance. Leaning forward, Michael pressed is nose against her core, inhaling deeply. Then, he extended his tongue, touching the pointed tip against her throbbing clit, making her moan and beg. Demi worked her fingers into his short ginger hair and pulled him closer, tilting her hips, desperate for the kind of contact she needed.

Finally, he grabbed her hips and started eating her with enthusiasm that made her groan his name. He licked and sucked and nibbled softly, pushing his agile tongue into her folds, sucking on her clit, driving her on, and she knew she was oh so close now. She felt the tightening of her muscles begin and her breathing speeded up even more, before her orgasm crashed into her with a force that stopped her breath altogether. Her hips bucked forward and she screamed her release loudly, her knees almost giving way completely.

Slowly, leisurely, Michael brought her down with soft licks and kisses, holding her hips, helping to keep her on her feet. Then, he got up, towering over her at his full height, and kissing her deeply, her own essence invading her mouth.

“Now,” he said when he broke the kiss, “I’m going to fuck you.”

He lifted her arms above her head, and easily captured her wrists in one of his large hands. His other hand went to his pants, making quick work of his belt and fly. Demi looked down as he grabbed her one leg and draped it over his hip. He gripped his thick hard cock in one hand and slicked his dark head through her juices, his breath stuttering in his throat. Then, he rammed into her, sheathing himself fully, throwing his head back as he hissed through his teeth.

“Sweet Jesus you’re so tight.” He gritted out through clenched teeth. He started moving, stroking slow and hard and deep, tilting his hips and grinding his pelvis on her with every upstroke, his teeth bared and his eyes closed. Demi felt him deep inside her, hitting her core with every stroke, making her mewl in pleasure and need. Releasing her wrists, he dropped his arm and grabbed both her hips, picking her up with no effort and walking back inside the large room where the table she was working on still stood. Still sheathed inside her, he lay her down carefully on the table, grabbed her ankles and raised her legs.

He crossed her ankles and wrapped an arm around her thighs, holding her legs tightly closed and against his body. Then he started thrusting into her hard and fast with a small grunt each time, and Demi thought that surely she was going to lose her mind. She could feel every ridge and bump of his hard cock sliding into her over and over, and her inner muscles fluttered with her approaching peak. She could not be silent even if she tried, and she begged and spoke his name over and over again as he pounded into her. His hand went from where he was grasping her hip with bruising force to her sensitive nub, and he started stroking her mercilessly, frigging her hard and fast, still pistoning into her at a punishing pace. 

“Come for me dirty girl.” He grated out, and she obliged, his words sending her over the edge once again, her back arching off the table and her fingers clawing at the rough wood.

He picked up the pace even more and slammed into her as she convulsed around him, riding out her orgasm until suddenly he stilled deep within her and came hard, spurting his hot seed and growling her name.

Michael released her legs and she scooted back on the table, bending her legs and laying there, spent and sweaty and sated. He crawled onto the table and lay his long body down next to hers, draping an arm across her body and nuzzling into her neck. They were quiet for minutes, getting their breath back, and then she spoke.

“Why me? You don’t even know me.” She asked. He raised himself on one elbow to look at her incredulously.

“Are you serious?” She nodded, feeling the blood rush to her cheeks. His eyes softened, and he stroked a single finger down her cheek.

“Because you’re hot as hell, confident, sexy and I couldn’t keep my eyes off you since you walked in.” he said matter-of-factly. Demi made non-committal noise in her throat, staring up at the rafters way above them.

“Then I guess we should send Luca a fruit basket or something.” She remarked, and Michael chuckled.

“Yep. I owe him big for being a misogynistic asshole and a bully, and for making you kiss me.”

“Maybe a card. Or a gift voucher.” Demi carried on, and Michael laughed out loud.

“I’ll buy him a car.” He smiled. “But only if you promise to come to my flat for round two.”

~END~


End file.
